Malice
by Katrina Marie Lupin
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin. Muse's musings and commentary and insight on Dr. Rush's (repeated?) descent to madness. Spoilerific as hell. You know what it is.


I... I just watched "Malice". I... I have this thing, which I refer to in general as 'dalvar', that is a very serious for-life mating practise of the Kaeguri. When a mate dies, the madness that follows... it's such a specific brand of 'crazy', they have a different word for it. For a culture that is very doom-saying, and morbid, this is one of the most honourable ways to die – avenging your mate, or at least in heartbreak/mourning for them. So when I watch Dr. Rush... OH THE FEELS. I had to take notes, because honestly, by the point my hands were shaking, the muse was snapping at me to get paper and pencil, we needed to capture this raw reaction as soon as we could! I have been watching SGU for Bobby Carlyle's sake, and he has not disappointed me. On the one hand, my heart bleeds for him, but the schadenfreude in me screams for joy at the cruel injustice of it. I'm also going to be rewriting this for my NaNoWriMo (very heavily, mind you) but I thought I should share.

xxxx

"Dr. Rush... Amanda Perry is dead."

Widowed a second time — this time it wasn't the slow, cruel death of cancer, but this one a violent murder. Perry, who was in Gin's body, Gin who is ELI'S love. Perry, whom he always loved, but could never be with, for... so many reasons. And then, when those reasons were gone... And he wasn't ready. "But now... Now things will be different." Called away for a _stupid_ thing, and then sent right back but...

Too late. It was... Too late.

He stands... staring. Shocked. It... it can't be. He steps into the room, kneels beside the broken, still body. He touches a hand to her face - her cheek — her skin is cold. He snatches a radio from the stand. "Johansen, this is Rush. I need help." His voice manages to come through clearly, though the threat of his shaking voice creeps in.

There, but not, he sits on the bed, staring at the broken promise, the years of wasted opportunities, the sleepless nights, thinking, dreaming, hoping. Determined that next time, he wouldn't let anything stand in his way. But duty called anyway — _he was only gone for a moment!_

"We... don't know," Johansen tries to comfort him. "It's... never been _confirmed_ that happens..." She knows what he's thinking. It's said that, if you are killed while in another person's body, the other person dies as well. That Mandy's gone. She's dead. He hears the words of comfort, but they are meaningless. _Not again_, is all he can think. _Not again._ First Gloria... and now Mandy.

He listens as they report — all of the Lucian alliance are accounted for, but for Simeon. His assigned patrolman isn't answering the radio. And then... "This is James. Amanda Perry is dead."

And then the world crashes.

Your hands... your hands are moving. They don't know what it is they need to do, but they know they need to do. Your mind is blank - the emotion is just too much, the pure shock of it would kill you. So instead, you don't feel. You don't even ponder — your mind is ready to focus on its next task — vengeance. The title of the episode is "Malice". The episode description says something about a manhunt after Simeon, but all you know is that your nerves are firing, and your hands are moving.

Dr. Rush stands, and weaves his way through the people in the room, as if they weren't there, and exits her room.

"Rush— RUSH!" But you ignore him, moving as if you don't hear him. Because you don't... You hear the word, but it doesn't register. It truly doesn't. You're like a shadow on the wind, moving, no thought, no care. And then, you are an angry fist on the walls, a snarl, a roar of outrage and despair.

Didn't even get the chance... Didn't even get the chance... Didn't even get the chance... Like a mantra, your mind repeats the unfinished thought, knowing fully damned well what it ends with. As it repeats, it becomes a roar, illegible, unintelligible, nothing but the fury that you can't feel, because it would hurt too much. Your mind is clever enough to disconnect from the heart that would break you in an instant.

"Colonel?" Eli says, his own voice dangerously calm. "Give me a gun?"

The Colonel doesn't meet his eyes. "We're here." TJ, too, says nothing.

You come to the armory — you know what you want. You find the doors empty... the guards are sprawled on the floor. You check the pulse... _dead_. You look around at the damage — it was the pair of them. Judging by the angle, he caught them by surprise. You check the pockets, and take the ammunition and gun.

You hear the sound of closing doors. Gun armed and pointed, you stalk the sound. You can barely make out two figures in the mist — you hope that it's him, so you can shoot the son of a bitch down, but the door closes before you manage to cross to it.

"He's locked himself in the gateroom with at least one hostage." You wait what seems a reasonable amount of time and then, "Mr. Brody, I need the door opened NOW!"

The door opens at last, and you see that... he's gone. You look around, but he's... gone. You turn to the remaining victim, your hands still as you still hold your gun. "Where did he go?"

"He went through..." You grab a handheld from the console, and tucking the gun into your back pocket, you make chase, running through the portal. "Wait! WAIT!" But you're already through.

You step through... and the bastard's nowhere to be seen. It's desert. It's silent. Dead, like Gloria, and now Mandy, and the guards, and so many others. The gun is at your side again, pointed away from you - you're not an idiot, you remember basic gun safety. Because... yes. You've done this before.

His hostage is there — you don't really care about her, but she talks to you. "Please..." she repeats. "He put something on my back."

_I don't care_, you want to say, because you really don't. You don't give a _shit_ about her, and whatever the hell he may or may not have put on her back. You want to know where he _went_. Where is he now?

But there isn't an answer. So, with no better lead, you step forward. Your steps are calm, collected, calculated. Your hand does not tremble, your face betrays no emotion, except for determination. A quiet, concentrated focus, set only on your target. But you do - you step forward until you can see what she has on her back.

...the bomb is off, the princess saved. "Yeah?" you ask her, though you don't really wait for an answer. Like the vengeful gunman, a lawman in the lawless Wild West, you head out, gun in hand, and the damned kino follows.

..you walk right into a booby trap, but you spot the bomb before it goes off. Unfortunately, by the time you've recovered, Scott's found you. He tells you that Simeon must be taken alive — he has intelligence on the terrorist attack. "And you think he'll tell you?" How stupid are you?

"It doesn't matter, I have orders!"

"And I don't care." You move again, and he grabs you.

The search is military, planned, thought out, methodical. As you walk, the minutes start to creep up on you again. The narrow focus that was nothing but action bleeds back into an environmental awareness. You can feel the air, arid, the ground beneath your boots, hard and unforgiving. Your thoughts begin to re-engage, and with it, your heart comes back online.

Your steps hesitate, slow, and then stop. The emotion falls over you like a flood, and you must stop to catch your breath. The hand holding a gun comes to your mouth - knuckles against your lips. You gasp as your eyes flood with tears as the entirety of it comes back.

_She's gone._

…You finally get your chance... You're alone again. You can track him. He's wounded, now, and you do — you corner him. You set the trap, and wait. When he walks into the line of fire, you set off the bait - a distraction. He thinks it's funny, your desperate revenge. He shoots back, egging you on. He's grinning. And then, when he thinks you're ducking for cover for a reload (when in actuality, you're making sure you kept just one last shot), you set off the trap. A bomb explodes in the distance. He turns, bemused, until he hears the rumbling of the stampede. And he realises what you've done. This is your vengeance. It is a sure death. It might not be the skill of marksmanship, but it has the infallibility of a carefully laid plan, and is that not your style? You listen to the hooves, a thunder moving across the land, and wait for it to pass.

He is still alive. He turns over, and looks you in the eye. He _dares_ to stare at you in the eye, and he tries to appeal to your better nature - your human nature. The one that cares about anyone, _anything_, other than the vengeance. The part that has been locked away, because it's in too much _pain_ to stick around. The one that will crumble and fall later, but right now is content to wait its turn while the bastard's end is made.

"I have intelligence." Perhaps he thinks you'll reconsider, but he's not the first to say it.

Instead, you point the gun at his head, and fire the shot.

...it's a long walk back to the Stargate. You fall to your knees in relief when Scott steps out from behind it. /Good/. So your hunch was good, and Eli figured it out. Okay, so Chloe figured it out. Back up plans within back up plans. Damned, you're so clever. Damned good thing, too, because right now...

...right now you're done. You go quietly, and go to your room before collapsing from sheer exhaustion.

It's been so long since you've slept. The blackness is a welcome engulfing...

Welcome. Because tomorrow, the hell begins. The hell when, instead of looking forward to Mandy's return, you'll regret not taking the chance you had. You'll blame yourself, because you _are_ the one that brought her on the ship. The finest person in the world, the only other person you could have ever cared about, the one person who actually understands you... And she's gone.

For tomorrow and for forever after.


End file.
